


Dream a little dream of me

by elf_on_the_shelf



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, light and fluffy, mentions of the South Downs cottage, soft fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/pseuds/elf_on_the_shelf
Summary: A dream gone bad - or good?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #08 "dream"





	Dream a little dream of me

_It was late afternoon in the cottage they both shared and the sun was shining just right and the sky was painted crimson. The shadows were dancing on the walls. There was music playing in the background from Aziraphale’s museum-piece gramophone. What he meant to say – well, think – was that this was the perfect moment to do this._

_So, he cleared his throat and sat down on one knee and then cleared his throat some more._

_Aziraphale was currently sitting on the couch reading one of his many books but he glanced up as soon as he saw Crowley kneel and now his eyes were as wide as saucers._

_“Angel, um… what I mean to say is… I have no idea what I mean to say…”_

_“Maybe something relating to that small box you are squashing?”_

_“Don’t be a bastard. You know what this is.”_

_“I do indeed but I still want to hear it out loud.”_

_“Gah! Aziraphale, would you marry me? I love you so much. More than words could tell. And I’m not very good with them anyway. But would you?”_

_And just as soon as he said it he was pulled away from the scene altogether._

_He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and he tried his best to lean into the touch._

_And then he woke up._

Oh.

He was in Aziraphale’s bed. _Why was he there? Ah, right._ Aziraphale had told him he could hunker down for the night after they had drunk a LOT of wine bottles. _Was it six? Or eight? Maybe eight_. Maybe even more.

He nearly fell out of the bed when he got up, an angel’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he managed with half a voice.

“Hey yourself,” Aziraphae replied all proper and tucked up in his pyjamas and glorious covers.

Crowley could still not believe that he was inhabiting this space.

This space that screamed Aziraphale and “angel” and “soft” and everything he was not.

Okay so he slept in Aziraphale’s bed and then he had a dream about it. No worries.

It’s not as if he could ever profess his undying love to the angel. Well, he could, but it would never be reciprocated. So… better not.

He looked at the angel up and down and then up again and gulped.

He wanted to say it.

He wanted to say it so much.

And as he opened his mouth to do just that Aziraphale interrupted him.

“Dearest, I think we should probably talk.”

_Oh shit._

Did he say it out loud? Did he say any of it out loud?

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._

“M…yeah?”

Aziraphale smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Did I?”

“You did,” the angel smiled beatifically at him some more. And then that sublime smile turned into a smirk.

“I would at least expect a dinner at the Ritz first if you ever want to ask that. Not a hint. Just a suggestion.”


End file.
